


Eternity

by Tiny_Dragongirl



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, eternal love, practically in a drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 06:16:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiny_Dragongirl/pseuds/Tiny_Dragongirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by Emily Brontë's beuatiful poem, Lines, a strange love story between Mycroft and Harriet because I ship them like mad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eternity

They can’t put their finger on it but there is something about them. They keep on meeting across time, again and again. Different ages, different lands, different social statuses, different beginnings and different endings with two fixed points: Him and Her. Two focuses of an ellipse. Two suns with the world around them.

He witnessed her trial as a guard. She was found to be guilty at witchcraft and sentenced to be burnt at the stake for sorcery. He was there when they performed the execution. He wanted to rescue her from the flames and ride away (he imagined himself as a knight in shining armour saving his princess from the big bad dragon) but he didn’t have the horse nor the nerve to actually do it.

He was a dull gentleman and she became his mistress. He was bored, politics and family matters bored him, but she wore pink ribbons in her dark hair and that caught him. Those ribbons meant everything that his life wasn’t; they were quite tacky, so they were the most exciting things he has ever seen.

He was a vicar and she was a Catholic girl. They only met once and talked for half an hour but their conversation upon religion and belief was as heated as the most passionate love that one can feel. She praised her Lord with such exaltation that it was almost blasphemy. On his deathbed he recalled their conversation as his most intensive and sinful experience of his life. He always felt like he had cheated on his wife.

He was a cotton mill manufacturer and employed the woman at his factory. It only happens in fairy tales that the rich guy marries the poor girl and they live happily ever after. Or maybe not only in fairy tales but surely not in his family. He had to maintain his reputation, after all.

He was a politician and she was a suffragette. She threw a rotten tomato at him. It was love-after-clearing-sight-from-smashed-tomato. She became famous in her fight for women’s right and he was forgotten as an ordinary man from the crowd.

Now he is Mycroft Holmes, practically the British government (although he prefers to say he only occupies a minor position in it) and she is Harriet Watson, the sister of his brother’s flatmate. When his brother decides to share a flat with Dr Watson, Mycroft decides to check the man – completely. Within an hour John appeared in the picture, he had every detail he needed at hand, including family photos. He never remembers any of the lives he lived but he always finds her. At least once in a life suddenly she is just there all familiar and bright new at the same time. He never knows and never asks if she feels the same about him.

Now he is Mycroft Holmes, politician and member of the Diogenes Club, constantly worried about state affairs and his little brother. She is Harriet ‘just-Harry’ Watson, dealing with alcohol problems and an ex-wife. Still, Mycroft and Harry might get on well. Or might not. Eternity is the only thing they have to figure it out.


End file.
